


Abnormal Nutrition and Fortified Support Structures

by onemechanicalalligator



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, Coming Out, Eating Disorders, Friendship, Gen, Recovery, Secrets, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: Abed has an eating disorder.
Relationships: Abed Nadir & Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir & the Study Group, Troy Barnes & Abed Nadir
Comments: 18
Kudos: 128





	Abnormal Nutrition and Fortified Support Structures

Troy leaves for Air Conditioner Repair School, and at first, Jeff doesn’t realize that much has changed. Abed is a little quieter, sure, but that’s to be expected. Troy’s his best friend, and in a way, Abed must be grieving. He trusts that Annie is watching out for Abed. They’re roommates, after all.

A week and a half after Troy goes away, Abed faints during study group. They're taking a break and everyone gets up from their chairs, and next thing Jeff knows, Abed is flat on the floor, unconscious. They wake him up quickly, and help him to lay down on the couch, and he keeps saying he's fine. Annie takes a granola bar from her backpack and gives it to him, and he politely declines, and everyone insists until he finally agrees to eat it. They make their way back to the table, even Abed, because he refuses to stay on the couch. Jeff watches him spend the next hour dissecting the granola bar with his fingers and eating it piece by tiny piece whenever he sees someone watching him. 

After that, Abed starts to skip out on classes and study group meetings. Not too many, but more than before. It worries Jeff a little, but he forces himself not to think about it too hard. Abed is fine, and he can take care of himself. 

Then Annie pulls Jeff aside after study group one day, when everyone else is leaving and Abed never showed up at all. 

“I’m wondering if you can do me a huge favor,” she says, looking worried and maybe a little nervous.

“Sure, what’s up?” Jeff asks.

“Can you invite Abed to spend the weekend at your place?”

“Troy just left, and you’re _already_ sick of living with Abed? He can’t be _that_ bad,” Jeff says. He realizes he’s actually a little offended on Abed’s behalf.

“No, no, it’s not that at all,” Annie says, shaking her head, her eyes suddenly wide with distress. “It’s just that I have plans to go out of town for the weekend, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving Abed alone.”

“He’s a grown man, Annie,” Jeff says. He rolls his eyes.

“Have you _seen_ him lately?” she shrieks, then catches herself and lowers her voice slightly. “He’s a wreck. You remember how he fainted last week. And he only eats when I force him to. He spends most of his time either locked in his bedroom or locked in the bathroom.”

“Okay, that’s not great,” Jeff admits. “I didn’t know all that. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Annie says. She looks at him expectantly.

“I’ll invite him,” Jeff says. “What if he says no?”

“I’ll find a way to convince him,” she promises. “There’s just no way I’m leaving him alone for two whole days.”

“Are you going to tell him that you put me up to this?” Jeff asks.

“No,” Annie says. “But he’ll probably figure it out anyway. I don’t care. I’d rather he be safe and mad at me than alone and in trouble.”

“Has anyone tried to get in touch with Troy?”

“I looked into it.” Annie looks angry. “I couldn’t find any contact information for the school, and I don’t know where he actually is. I don’t know what else to try. I’m just hoping he’ll find a way to come home soon.”

Jeff nods.

He calls Abed from his car, before he even heads home.

“Hey, Abed. How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Abed says, and he sounds...fine.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out with me this weekend,” Jeff says, cringing at how fake this sounds. “You could stay here.”

“Annie’s trying to pawn me off on you because she’s going out of town.” Abed doesn’t sound angry or upset. Just matter-of-fact.

“Okay, that’s a little harsh,” Jeff argues. “She’s just worried about you. She doesn't know if you should be alone.”

“I know,” Abed says. “And, sure, okay. I’ll spend the weekend with you.” He mutters something else that Jeff doesn’t quite catch, but it sounds kind of like _Annie’s probably right_.

“What was that last part?” he asks.

“I’ll bring some movies,” Abed says.

* * *

_Troy was the only one who knew about everything, and somehow just having a friend who knew about it made it easier. Not always, and not completely, but it was still something, and Abed didn’t realize how big of a something it was until Troy was gone. Abed knew it had been better over the last few years, but he didn’t realize how much better, how much progress he had made, and now it feels like he’s trying to climb up a hill and he keeps losing his footing as he slides through mud, and maybe it’s also raining in this analogy, because this is really, really hard._

_He really did try to keep it together when Troy left, because he wanted to make Troy proud even if he wasn’t there, and he wanted to be a functional human, because sometimes it actually felt good. He tried, he really, really tried, but he stumbled and started to slide, and there was no one there to catch him, no one there who even saw him trip._

_Annie can tell something’s wrong. It only took a couple of days for her to realize that Abed had stopped eating, and now she makes all his meals for him, watches him to make sure he eats, and it is excruciating, it makes him want to die. He doesn’t tell her that, though, he just thanks her for cooking, because she’s just being kind, and when he excuses himself at the end of the meal, he tries to be discreet so she doesn’t notice him throwing it up in the bathroom._

_It’s something he’d only done a few dozen times since being at Greendale, but lately it’s become much more frequent, more like how it was during high school and right after. Having anything in his stomach feels heavy and painful and Bad, and Annie cooks things that aren’t on Abed’s list of safe foods, the list in Abed’s head that Annie doesn’t even know about, and he doesn’t have the heart or the energy to bring it up._

* * *

When Abed turns up at Jeff’s door on Friday evening, the first word that comes to Jeff’s mind is _frail._ Abed is carrying an overnight bag that’s slipping off his bony shoulder, and his clothes are hanging off of him, and he just looks like he could shatter at any moment.

“Hey,” Jeff says. “Come on in.”

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” Abed says. “Annie’s been way calmer ever since we set it up. I think I’m exhausting her.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Jeff asks, motioning for Abed to sit with him on the couch.

Abed shrugs. “I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“Is this about Troy leaving? Are you guys… You know…?”

“Are we what?” Abed stares at Jeff, his face blank.

“More than friends?” 

“We’re _best_ friends.”

“But you’re not, like...dating?” 

“No,” Abed says. “As far as I know, Troy is straight. And dating Britta, in case you’d forgotten.”

“And you?” Jeff pushes.

“Not so straight,” Abed says, tilting his head to the side. “Also, not pining after Troy, which is what I assume you’re getting at. I haven’t been heartbroken. Troy’s my best friend. And he...helped me with some things, and it’s difficult without him, and I miss him.”

“What kinds of things did he help you with?”

“Could I just...have a few minutes to settle in, before we get into it?” Abed asks, his voice suddenly very small.

“Of course,” Jeff says. “Do you want something to eat? It’s just about dinner time.”

He thought Abed was looking kind of pale already, but whatever color was left in his face all but disappears when Jeff asks the question.

“No thank you,” Abed says. He slips his shoes off and pulls his feet up underneath him so he’s curled up into a ball on the couch. “I already ate,” he adds, not looking at Jeff.

Jeff is skeptical, and he remembers what Annie said about Abed only eating when she forces him. He wonders if she forced Abed to eat dinner before she dropped him off, or if he is lying so he doesn’t have to eat at all. He decides not to worry about it right this second.

He turns on the TV, and Abed pulls out a movie for them to watch together. Partway through Jeff gets up to make his own dinner, and he asks Abed again if he’d like anything, and Abed declines a second time. When the movie is over, Abed is yawning, and Jeff suggests that they get ready to sleep. He offers his own bed to Abed, but he says he’s fine with the couch. Jeff loads him up with several pillows and blankets and says goodnight.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to get some water, and he sees a light on and goes to investigate. When he steps out into the living room he finds Abed sitting up on the couch. He’s wearing a t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms.

“Hey,” Jeff says softly, trying not to startle him. It doesn’t work. Abed jumps a mile in the air and presses a hand to his chest. “Sorry,” he adds.

“It’s okay,” Abed says. He wraps his arms around a big pillow and holds it against his torso. “I’m jumpy.”

“Can I come sit?”

Abed nods, and Jeff sits down in a chair across from him.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up,” Abed says. “I had a bad dream and then couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

“No, I just got thirsty,” Jeff says. “Are you okay?”

“Why do you ask?” Abed looks down and wraps his arms tighter around the pillow. 

“You know why,” Jeff says, hoping to sound gentle, and not sure if he’s succeeding. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t eat dinner. And I don’t know what you’re trying to hide but…” He trails off, gesturing at the way Abed is holding himself. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to sleep? Or watch a movie?” Abed asks hopefully.

“I’m sure,” Jeff says. “Please?”

"Look, I'll talk to you about the eating thing if I have to," says Abed. "I know Annie's already brought it up anyway. But is there any chance you would be willing to just close your eyes for a minute while I put on my sweater, and then agree never to ask about it?" 

"I'd rather have you just be honest with me,” Jeff says. “I'm worried about you, Abed." 

"Don't be," Abed says quickly. "I'm fine." 

"You're not, though," Jeff argues. "You've lost so much weight that your clothes barely fit. You're skipping meals. And I feel like there’s probably more to it than that." 

Abed opens his mouth as if to speak, and then closes it. He closes his eyes and squeezes his arms even tighter around the pillow. When he opens his eyes again, they’re dark and haunted.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?” Jeff asks. “You don’t have to apologize. I just want to help you.”

“I don’t know if you can,” Abed replies. “And I’m sorry because I don’t know what to do, or what I’m supposed to say. I don’t know how this is supposed to go. I don’t… I don’t want to be a Very Special Episode.”

“Abed, this isn’t--”

“I know it’s not a TV show.”

“I _know_ you know it’s not a TV show. I was going to say, this isn’t something that’s going to get fixed in 23 minutes. But if you’ll talk to me, I can try to help as best I can. I care about you. A lot.”

“I don’t think I can tell you,” Abed says. He bites his lip. “But if you want to try guessing, I guess I can tell you if you’re right.”

It’s not what Jeff expected, but it is _something,_ and he’ll take it.

“Are you sick?” he asks, trying to start gently.

Abed shakes his head.

“Have you lost your appetite?”

Abed tilts his head and blinks. He doesn’t say anything. Just waits.

“Do you have a...problem with eating?”

Abed nods very slightly, almost imperceptibly.

“Do you starve yourself on purpose?”

Abed hesitates, then nods again. 

“Is there more?”

Abed freezes. He stays completely still for several seconds. Then he very slowly lets go of the pillow he’s been clutching and extends his bare arms. He turns his palms so they’re facing up, and Jeff can see that his arms, from his wrists all the way up to the sleeves of his t-shirt, are littered with bruises in varying shades of red, purple, green, and brown. The majority of them are the same size and shape and pattern. 

“Are those...fingerprints, Abed?” Jeff asks, trying to keep his voice even.

Abed nods. "Some of them." 

“Did someone do that to you? Did someone hurt you?”

He shakes his head violently.

“Did you hurt _yourself?”_

Abed nods.

“Okay,” Jeff says, trying to stay calm for Abed while also wondering how the hell he missed this, all of this. “Okay. Is there, um, more I should be asking you about?”

Abed shrugs, then shakes his head. He reaches for his bag on the floor and pulls out a cardigan and slips it on.

“Does anyone else know? About any of this?” Jeff asks. 

Abed’s mouth turns up into a small, wistful smile.

“Troy.”

“Was he...helping you?” Jeff asks, wondering if that’s why Abed has gone so far downhill so quickly.

Abed nods. 

“How long has all this been going on, Abed?”

Abed shakes his head and rolls his eyes. 

“Forever?” he says, his face blank. “At least since junior high. Maybe longer than that. My memory isn’t great.”

“Does your dad know?”

“Nope.”

“And Annie doesn’t know?”

“Nope.”

“She told me she’s been forcing you to eat.”

"Jeff, can we… Can we continue this conversation in the morning?" Abed asks, and yawns, and Jeff realizes that Abed is practically falling asleep where he’s sitting. 

"Yeah, of course," he says. "Goodnight, Abed. Thanks for being honest with me." 

"Goodnight," Abed whispers. 

* * *

_Abed waits for Jeff to close his bedroom door before he lets himself freak out, hyperventilating into a pillow and pinching his arm as hard as he possibly can. He doesn't talk about these things._ He doesn't talk about these things. _He hates everything about this, and now Jeff knows about him, knows his secrets. Some of them, at least. And maybe he'll tell the others, because Abed didn't tell him not to. And maybe he'll treat Abed differently. And he'll definitely make Abed eat breakfast in the morning, and then lunch, and then dinner. For the next two days._

_He wonders what dying feels like, if it's anything like this: dark and scary and overwhelming and unfamiliar and painful and hopeless. He doesn't want this to be his life. It's been his life for so long, though, and he doesn't really know anything else. Troy tried to rescue him, and maybe he succeeded a little. But he's gone now._

_He pinches his arm again. Then he grabs it with one hand, digging his fingers hard into the skin. He feels completely disconnected from his body, which isn't actually so bad. He thinks everything would be better if he didn't have to have a body at all. But he doesn't like the floaty feeling, as if he's not in_ control _of his body. He really, really hates not being in control._

_He goes into the bathroom and sits on the floor, wringing his hands and trying to come back to himself. He stays that way for a long time, and it doesn't help, and he starts to worry that he's going to disappear altogether. Finally he stands up and turns the water on in the sink to block any noise. Then he rolls up the sleeves of his cardigan and begins to rhythmically bang his bare wrists against the edge of the counter until they start to turn red, until red turns to splotchy and rainbow, until he starts to worry about wasting water. Until he starts to feel something again._

* * *

Jeff makes breakfast in the morning. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Abed, but he also wants to make sure he eats. So he makes eggs, and toasts a few bagel thins, and cuts up some fruit, and sets out some yogurt, and he figures Abed can choose what he wants.

Abed doesn’t choose what he wants. When he gets to the table he stares at all the food, glancing from one thing to another with a look of panic on his face, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t pick up a plate or a bowl or a spoon.

Jeff has eaten with Abed tons of times and he’s never reacted like this before. Then again, Jeff’s never really paid attention.

“Can I get you something, Abed?” Jeff asks.

Abed shrugs.

“How about if I just make a plate for you?” He wonders if taking the decision away will help him to calm down.

“Okay,” Abed says, and starts biting his nails.

Jeff makes him a plate with a little bit of everything and sets it in front of him. He makes himself an identical plate and sits down.

“How are you feeling today?” Jeff asks, to make conversation, but also because he wants to know. “How did you sleep, the second time around?”

“Fine,” Abed says. “I slept okay. Your couch is comfortable.”

“It’s a pretty great couch,” Jeff agrees. 

He tries not to watch Abed -- he doesn’t want to make him nervous or shy -- but he can’t help stealing glances and noticing that Abed is moving the food around on his plate without eating any of it. At one point Abed looks up and catches Jeff’s eye, and Jeff doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t look away, either. Abed spears a piece of watermelon and eats it.

The meal seems to last a long time, and Jeff finishes long before Abed, but eventually Abed does eat everything on his plate. Jeff is satisfied, and a little proud. He had assumed this would be more difficult, based on what Annie had told him.

Not long after Abed finishes eating, Jeff’s phone rings, and he tells Abed that it’s his mom, and he’s going to take the call in his bedroom. Abed nods and starts cleaning up their dishes. Jeff anticipates the call to be a long one, but actually, they only talk for a couple of minutes before she has to go. Jeff goes back out to the living room, but doesn’t see Abed anywhere. As he heads down the hallway, he notices that the door to the guest bathroom is shut, and he almost doesn’t hear it, because he’s not listening for anything.

But he does hear it, the sound of retching, and all of a sudden his heart is in his throat, and his train of thought goes from _Abed is sick_ to _I poisoned Abed with breakfast_ to _Abed is making himself throw up,_ and each one of those options kind of seems worse than the previous one. So he goes back out to the living room and sits on the couch and waits for Abed to come back.

When he does, Abed is a little pale, but not enough that Jeff would have noticed it otherwise. Abed sits down on the couch and smiles at Jeff.

“Do you want to do something?” he asks.

Jeff means to say, _I think maybe we should talk some more._ He means to ease into it.

Instead, he says, “Did you just make yourself sick?”

Abed’s eyes widen, and any hint of an expression leaves his face, he’s just completely blank. Then he gets up and walks out the front door.

Jeff follows him, because he doesn’t know where Abed is going to go, and he doesn’t want to lose him. Doesn’t want Abed to be alone. It turns out he doesn’t have to go very far. Abed is sitting on the curb right outside Jeff’s building, his legs pulled in and arms wrapped around them. He is banging his head lightly against his knees, over and over and over again.

“Hey,” Jeff says.

“Hi,” Abed replies. “I think I should go home now. Can you drive me? We can tell Annie I stayed here the whole time. She’ll never know the difference.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Jeff says. “Why do you want to go? Because you’re embarrassed?”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Abed asks pointedly. 

“Probably,” Jeff admits. “Would you let _me_ leave, though? If I was the one who--”

“Not in a million years,” Abed interrupts, before he can say it. He sighs, and this time when his forehead hits his knees, it stays there.

“Want to go for a walk?” Jeff asks. “Since we’re already outside and everything.”

“Okay,” Abed replies. 

They begin walking down Jeff’s street, side by side. For a long time, both of them are silent. Jeff is pretty certain Abed won’t be the first one to talk.

“Do you do that often?” he finally asks. He doesn’t look at Abed.

Abed doesn’t say anything. Jeff wants to give him his space, doesn’t want him to feel pressured, so he continues to look straight ahead, and he’s a little startled when Abed suddenly reaches over and grabs hold of his hand. Abed’s own hand is shaking a little.

“Sorry,” he mutters, after a while. “I just need…” His voice sounds far away.

Jeff finally looks over. Abed’s eyes are glassy, and he looks dazed. 

“Abed? Are you okay?” Jeff squeezes Abed’s hand, and Abed finally looks over at him.

“Sorry,” Abed says. “I spaced out. Troy used to sit on me or hold my hand. When that would happen. To help me come back. That’s why I grabbed your hand.”

“It’s okay,” Jeff says. “Did it help? Do you want to keep holding hands?”

“Yes,” Abed says. “But I understand if you don’t want to be seen in public holding hands with another guy.”

“It’s fine,” Jeff says. “It, uh, wouldn’t be the first time I walked around here holding a guy’s hand, actually.”

“Do you date men?” Abed asks, and it seems like the change of subject is helping to bring him back. He already seems more alert. Jeff decides to keep it going.

“Sometimes,” he says. “Women too, you knew that already. It’s not something I really talk about at Greendale. It’s still a little new.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Abed says. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Jeff turns to look at Abed.

“You know I would never tell anyone about any of the things we’ve talked about, right?” he says. “Your sexuality or the other stuff. That’s no one’s business but yours.”

“Thanks,” Abed says. “I appreciate it.”

“So, if I try to talk to you about what happened earlier, are you going to space out again?” Jeff asks, only half joking.

“Who knows,” Abed says.

“Do you do it often?” Jeff asks, hoping Abed will catch that he’s just repeating his earlier question so he doesn’t have to clarify the details.

“Usually, no. Lately, yes,” Abed says, and he seems to be doing okay, seems to be present in the moment.

“Does Annie know?”

“No,” Abed says.

“Is Annie the reason you’ve been doing it more lately?”

“She won’t let me not eat…” He trails off helplessly.

“What’s so bad about eating, Abed?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Abed says. He stops walking and scrapes the sole of his shoe against the sidewalk a couple of times.

“Are you… I mean, do you think you need to lose weight?” Jeff asks carefully.

“No. It’s not really about what I look like, it’s more how I feel. And I hate the feeling of…” Abed grimaces. “This sounds so stupid. I hate the feeling of having food in me. I hate being reminded that I have a body. I hate not feeling in control of what goes into it.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Jeff says softly, and squeezes Abed’s hand again. He pivots around Abed and they start walking back to Jeff’s place.

“Thanks for saying that,” Abed says. “But I know it does, and it’s okay.”

“No, I’m serious,” Jeff says. “I don’t have exactly the same problem as you do, but I can relate at least a little bit. Particularly to the control thing.” He shrugs. He doesn’t want to make this about him, but he also wants Abed to know he understands a bit where he's coming from. 

“Cool,” Abed says. “I mean, not cool, but…” He squeezes Jeff’s hand.

“Yeah,” says Jeff. “But, look, you know that what you’re doing is dangerous, right?”

“I do,” says Abed.

“And you don’t care?” Jeff asks.

“And I don’t know how _not_ to do it,” Abed explains, his voice breaking. “For a while it seemed like Troy could… I don’t know, could _fix it_ or something, could _fix me,_ but he left and I realized he didn’t fix me at all, I was just _depending_ on him.”

“Why did you decide to tell Troy? In the first place?”

“I didn’t,” Abed says. “He asked.”

* * *

_The only reason he told Troy about it at all was because Troy noticed and brought it up, which was something that had never happened to Abed before. His dad never even noticed, not really, because when he was yelling at Abed for being too scrawny, what he was really yelling at Abed for was not eating like a normal person. Because Abed never seems to know how to act like a normal person._

_Troy was different, though. Troy figured it out before they even moved in together, when he started spending lots of time in Abed’s dorm, and one day he asked Abed,_ Why don’t you keep any food in your room _? And Abed was caught so off guard that all he could do was shrug. And then a few days later he gave Abed half his sandwich at lunch, and he noticed when Abed just tore it into a bunch of tiny pieces and didn’t eat any of it._

 _He waited even a few days more before confronting Abed about it, waiting until they were alone in Abed’s dorm, comfy on the couch, and then he said,_ Abed, do you have an eating disorder? _And Abed didn’t know how to react, he wasn’t ready for that, so he said,_ no, _and then he said,_ yes, _and then he said,_ I don’t know, _and then he grabbed a blanket and put it over his head and kept it there for the rest of the conversation._

 _And Troy didn’t get mad, didn’t even ask Abed to move the blanket, just kept talking like it was nothing. Like Abed was the most important thing. Troy asked,_ Do you feel safe? _And Abed said,_ Not really, not ever. _Troy asked,_ Do you ever do other things to hurt your body? _And Abed said,_ Yes, but I don’t think I can talk about that right now. _Troy said,_ That’s okay, buddy, _and then he said,_ I’m here for you. I want to help you. _Abed said,_ I don’t think that you can, I don’t think anyone can. _And Troy said,_ Do you mind if I try?

_And Troy did try, and he did help him. He didn’t mind when Abed took baby steps, and he didn’t mind when Abed tripped even on those. He taste-tested protein shakes with Abed for four days before they found one Abed would agree to have for breakfast, and he made up fake Troy & Abed™ Adventures at lunch time so that Abed could go eat lunch without the study group watching him. Troy found microwaveable buttered noodles and stocked Abed’s dorm room with them. _

_They tried a lot of things, and developed some routines, and it got easier when they moved into an apartment where they were together and had a full kitchen. Troy never tried to convince Abed to tell Annie about it, and Abed never did. By that point Abed could almost eat three meals a day sometimes, and when Annie clucked at him and his eating habits, Troy told her kindly to mind her business._

_And then Troy went away._

* * *

They get back to Jeff’s, and he suggests they watch TV, and of course, Abed agrees. Jeff finds reruns of _I Dream of Jeannie,_ and they watch several episodes before Jeff realizes it’s now mid-afternoon. It’s now more than time for lunch.

“Is there something you’d like to eat, Abed?” Jeff asks. “For lunch?”

The look of despair that washes over Abed’s face is enough of an answer, so Jeff tries a different question.

“If I make something, can you try to eat even just some of it?”

“I can try,” Abed says, and Jeff decides to make a salad, thinking lighter will be easier. 

He dishes a bowl out for each of them.

“Can we…” Abed hesitates.

“Can we what?”

“Can we eat while we watch TV?” he asks sheepishly. “It’s, um… It’s harder for me to eat if you’re watching me.”

“I’m not watching you,” Jeff says, frowning.

“I know, but it feels like you are.” Abed’s eyes are closed and he is breathing slowly and deeply, like he’s trying not to panic. Which, Jeff realizes, is probably _exactly_ what’s happening.

“We can eat in front of the TV,” he says. “No problem.”

“Thanks,” Abed says in a small voice, and Jeff grabs some napkins and they bring their salads to the couch.

 _Bewitched_ is on TV now, and after one episode Jeff’s salad is gone, and he thinks Abed has taken maybe three bites, although he’s trying his hardest not to watch him. Jeff sets his bowl on the coffee table and gets comfortable on the couch, facing the TV but letting his eyes slide over to look as Abed moves vegetables around, spearing and then dropping them, occasionally lifting them up to his mouth to take a small bite and then letting the rest fall back into the bowl. By the end of the third episode he’s eaten half the salad. 

He sets it on the coffee table next to Jeff’s and then pulls his feet up on the couch and sits with his arms squished between his thighs and torso. As Jeff continues to try not to watch, he sees Abed slip his right hand into the left sleeve of his cardigan. His face is completely blank and his hand moves in short little bursts, and it takes a minute or two for Jeff to realize what he’s doing.

“Abed,” he says, and Abed doesn’t respond. “Abed,” he says again, a little louder, and Abed startles and looks over at him. “Are you pinching yourself?”

Abed looks down at his arm and then yanks his hand out of his sleeve and stares at it, as though he doesn’t even recognize it as his own. Jeff stares at it, too, noticing the angry red abrasion near the knuckles of his index and middle fingers, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m sorry,” Abed says in a monotone voice. “I didn’t, um, mean to do that. I didn’t...realize I was doing that.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jeff says. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know,” Abed says. “I’ll be right back,” he adds, and stands up.

“Where are you--”

“Bathroom,” Abed says, walking out of the room.

“Don’t--” _Make yourself sick,_ is how the sentence was supposed to end.

“I won’t,” Abed says, exiting the room, and a moment later Jeff hears the bathroom door close and lock.

He considers going to listen at the door, but it seems like an invasion of privacy, and he does want to trust Abed. So he stays seated and waits for Abed to come back.

When Abed does come back, he goes straight to the couch and sits down next to Jeff. He doesn’t say anything, so Jeff doesn’t, either. He just gestures towards the remote, giving Abed control of it, and Abed reaches for it.

“Fuck, you’re bleeding,” Jeff says without thinking, and then wishes he’d been more tactful about it. The wound he noticed earlier on Abed’s knuckles has opened up and there’s blood smeared on his hand. 

Jeff stands up and reaches for Abed’s hand to take a look, and Abed jerks away like he’s been burned.

“Sorry,” Jeff says. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I can get you a band-aid and some antiseptic.”

“It’s fine,” Abed says quickly. “It’s nothing.”

“Let me help you clean it up,” Jeff says. “You don’t want it to get infected. Come into the bathroom.”

He takes Abed by the arm and marches him into the bathroom, then proceeds to clean and dress the wound.

“Thanks,” Abed says. He won’t meet Jeff’s eyes.

“Do you know what happened?” Jeff asks. “I, uh, saw earlier that it was scraped.”

“It’s nothing,” Abed says again. “Please, can we stop talking about it?”

They sit back down on the couch, Abed scrunched up far at one end and Jeff at the other. He pulls out his phone and Googles different variations of “cut on knuckles of dominant hand.” He scrolls through a few pages of results before he’s presented with a Wikipedia entry:

> _Russell's sign, named after British psychiatrist Gerald Russell, is a sign defined as calluses on the knuckles or back of the hand due to repeated self-induced vomiting over long periods of time. The condition generally arises from the afflicted's knuckles making contact with the incisor teeth during the act of inducing the gag reflex at the back of the throat with their finger(s)._

Jeff glances quickly at Abed and then back down at his phone. He doesn’t know if he should say anything, if it would make a difference. He’s now sure that Abed threw up the small amount of salad he ate for lunch. He’s equally sure that he’ll do the same thing with dinner, and Jeff feels helpless and out of his depth. He could say something, but it will upset Abed and probably get him nowhere. He could say nothing, and something terrible could happen. 

He sits there for about six minutes before he can’t take it anymore.

“Let me help you,” he begs. “Please.”

Abed blinks at him. “Help me with what?”

“I know you threw up your lunch,” Jeff says. “I know that’s why your hand is bleeding. I’m scared for you, and I want you to trust me to help you. The way you trust Troy.”

“I trusted Troy and he left,” Abed says dully. “And now I’m back to square one. Obviously trusting people isn’t the solution.”

“I don’t think your problem was trusting Troy,” Jeff says. “I think it was trusting _only_ Troy. You can’t pin your whole recovery on one person. It isn’t healthy. But if you let me help you, too, and maybe Annie…”

“You can’t tell Annie,” Abed says urgently, eyes wide.

“Abed, I _have_ to tell Annie,” Jeff says. “You’re really sick, and something really bad could happen to you. She thinks you’ve been eating this whole time since Troy’s been gone. And keeping it down.”

“I’ll be better,” Abed pleads. “I’ll figure something out. Please don’t tell her.”

“It’s not safe to keep this a secret,” Jeff insists. “Some part of you has to understand that, right? You're anorexic. And you’re a smart person. And you must understand that this can kill you.”

“Maybe I’m not.” Abed says.

“Maybe you’re not what?”

“Maybe I don’t have an…” He gestures vaguely.

“An eating disorder?”

Abed nods.

“If you didn’t have one, why wouldn’t you be able to say the words?” Jeff asks casually.

“Don’t lawyer me,” Abed spits.

“I think you know that you're sick,” says Jeff. “I think that you’re afraid to face it.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Abed asks, in that small voice that Jeff is starting to get used to.

“Yeah, I would,” Jeff admits. “But you don’t have to face it alone. I’m right here, and so is Annie, and even Britta and Shirley would help if you asked. We love you so much.”

Abed’s face crumples and he folds into himself, pulling his feet up and resting his face on his knees. He starts to shake, he gulps and sniffs and Jeff realizes he’s crying. He only hesitates for a moment before putting one hand on Abed’s back and rubbing it gently in circles, and they stay like that for a long time.

When Abed finally sits up, his face is ashen and streaked with tears. He has his arms wrapped around his middle and he’s staring straight ahead.

“I’m so scared,” he whispers. “Jeff, I’m _so scared.”_

Jeff stops rubbing Abed’s back and puts an arm around him instead, holding him close.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he says. “It’s a scary thing. And one you’ve carried around for a _really_ long time. But you deserve to be healthy and happy, Abed, you really do.”

Abed shakes his head. “I don’t,” he whispers. “I deserve _this._ I did _this_ to myself. It’s my fault.”

“You’re sick,” Jeff says quietly. “This is an illness.”

Abed shrugs.

“Do you remember how concerned the group was when you fainted the other day?” Jeff asks. “They were concerned because they care about you _so much_ and they wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“I love them, too,” Abed mumbles. “I love all of you. But you want to help me, and you can’t, and when people realize they can’t help me they get frustrated and leave.”

Jeff is fairly sure he’s heard Abed say almost those exact words before, when the group tried to change him to get a girl.

“Have we ever left you before?” Jeff asks. “Besides Troy, who didn’t leave because he _chose_ to?”

“No,” Abed admits. 

“Do you really think Britta, future therapist, would give up on you?”

“No.”

“How about Shirley, mother and expert on forgiveness and unconditional love?”

“No.”

“How about Annie, your roommate and one of your best friends, who has been taking care of you since Troy left?”

“No.”

“How about me?”

“No qualifiers?” Abed asks, looking at him. 

“If you don’t know by now how much I care about you, there’s really nothing else I can say, is there?” Jeff asks, and gives Abed a half-smile.

“I guess not,” Abed replies.

“Annie comes home tomorrow night,” Jeff says. “I could have the others come over, too. If you wanted.”

“If I’m going to tell them,” Abed says. “I don’t think I can do it all at once. With all of them looking at me and talking to me at the same time. It’s too much.”

“Britta could come over tonight,” Jeff suggests. "Shirley tomorrow, earlier in the day, before church maybe. And Annie when she gets home. What do you think?”

Abed closes his eyes. “You’d better invite them now before I change my mind.”

* * *

_He doesn’t know what to say when Britta gets there, and he thinks he’s going to have a panic attack. His heart is pounding so hard he can hear it, and he feels like his body is vibrating. He slips into the bathroom when Jeff answers the door and takes a few minutes to squeeze his arms, letting his fingers dig into the skin until he knows there will be marks. He pinches hard, over and over, and when that doesn’t work either, he sits on the floor next to the bathtub and bangs his wrists hard on the porcelain. He isn’t thinking straight, and he forgets to turn on the water and to lock the door. Britta and Jeff both burst in and find him._

_In some ways it makes it easier from that point forward, because he’s already more embarrassed than he would have thought possible. Britta gently pulls his sleeves down and gives him a hug, and Jeff leads him back to the couch, and he lets Britta find out what’s going on with him by asking questions, supplemented by the occasional comment from Jeff. Britta listens carefully and nods a lot, and she takes Abed’s hand and squeezes it a few times, and once everything is out on the table she surprises him by saying she doesn’t think the study group will be enough support. She tells Abed that there are treatment centers for people with problems like his, and she thinks that might be what he needs._

_Abed shuts down completely and stops talking, and eventually Britta leaves, and every time Jeff tries to broach the subject Abed ignores him. Jeff makes a frozen pizza for dinner, and Abed eats one slice, and when Jeff goes to use the bathroom Abed slips outside and throws up in the garden, hating himself more than he ever has in his entire life._

_When Shirley comes the next morning, he doesn’t have a panic attack, and she hugs him for a very, very long time. Once he and Jeff manage to tell her about Abed’s problems, she takes Abed in her arms and holds him again for another very, very long time. Then she says almost the exact same thing as Britta, and Abed wonders how the girls all seem to magically know that this is a thing that exists, when the idea of rehab for this kind of problem never even occurred to him, and obviously it never occurred to Jeff, either. Their visit ends much the same way Britta’s did, and Abed throws up in the garden again after breakfast and lunch, because Jeff is essentially monitoring the bathroom._

_By the time Annie arrives Abed wants to die, he really does, and he lets Jeff tell her everything because Abed can’t, and Annie starts to cry when Jeff tells her that Abed has been throwing up after every meal, and she tries to hide it but she can’t, because she starts crying so hard she’s hyperventilating, and Jeff has to calm her down while Abed sits on the floor with a blanket over his head so he doesn’t have to watch, knowing that he did this, it’s all his fault._

_Somehow Abed still manages to be surprised when Annie suggests a treatment center, just like Britta and Shirley, and he begins to rock back and forth under the blanket, and it feels like everything is coming apart, every part of him that he tried so hard to keep together is just shattering piece by piece until there’s nothing left, until he’s just a shell, an outline, a framework._

_Until he's empty, but it's the wrong kind of empty._

_Annie takes Abed home with her, and she makes him dinner, and she won’t let him in the bathroom after they eat. He secretly swipes a large ziploc bag from the kitchen and tells her he’s going to change, and then he shuts his bedroom door and vomits into the ziploc bag and hides it in his trash can, and it’s kind of the last straw, because he can’t believe this is what he’s become, this is what he’s resorted to doing. He doesn’t want to live like this. He doesn’t want to live, period._

_He stumbles into the living room and into Annie’s arms, and he cries so hard he collapses onto the floor, and she can’t quite catch him, so she sits down and holds him close to her and whispers nice things, kind things, soothing things. She tells him it’s going to be okay, she promises._

_She asks if he’s given more thought to getting treatment, and for the first time, he says yes._

* * *

Troy finally manages to escape the air conditioning repair weirdos, and he goes straight to school to look for Abed. He’s not there, though, only Britta is, and she smiles sadly at Troy when he goes to hug her.

“Where’s Abed?” he asks, before remembering to say hello or anything else.

“He’s, um, at a treatment center,” Britta says carefully, gauging Troy’s reaction.

“Oh my god,” Troy gasps. “For his eating problem? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Britta says. “And yeah. He’s been there for a few weeks. He’s actually coming home tomorrow.”

“Tell me everything,” Troy says, taking her hand, and she does. She walks him home to his apartment and tells him about Abed fainting, about him lying to Annie, about him staying with Jeff. About him talking to all of them, or at least letting Jeff talk to all of them. About hitting a point so low he scared himself, although he wouldn’t tell anyone what that point actually was, and finally agreeing to get help.

Troy is relieved not to be carrying Abed’s secret anymore, not to be the only pillar Abed has to lean on. He’s so relieved that he starts to cry, and they stop walking so Britta can hold him for a few minutes while he gets a hold of himself. This has been weighing on him for years, and he was so scared the whole time that he was away, so worried about what would happen to Abed, what he might do. That’s why he whispered, _“Keep eating while I’m gone, okay?”_ in his ear when he said goodbye to him.

That night he calls Jeff, who is going to pick Abed up the next day, and asks if he can go with him. 

“Of course you can,” Jeff says. “I’m glad you’re back. And I’m sure Abed will be thrilled to see you.”

“I’m sorry I never told you about his problems before,” Troy says. “He might have been able to get help earlier.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Jeff says. “It’s a tricky situation. And he’s an adult. Plus, it seems like he was doing better with you around. He wasn’t in danger the way he was with us.”

“I guess,” Troy says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When they get to the treatment center the next day, they only have to wait a few minutes before Abed steps out with his duffel bag. His clothes fit him better, and there’s color in his cheeks, and when he sees Troy he runs to him, wraps him up in a hug.

“You’re home,” he says. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“I’m home for good,” Troy replies. “And you are amazing and I’m so proud of you.”

“I didn’t do so well after you left,” Abed admits.

“You’re doing well _now,”_ Troy says. “That’s what matters.

"It's still hard," Abed says uncertainly. "It's not over. I still have a lot of work to do." 

"We're all here to help you," Jeff pipes up. "With whatever you need." 

“You guys saved me, you know,” Abed says, reaching to bring Jeff into the hug. “I wanted to die. I don't anymore. Thank you.”

“I didn't do much,” Troy says, and Abed rolls his eyes and pokes him in the side. 

“We love you,” Jeff adds, and Troy nods emphatically.

“I love you too,” Abed replies. “More than words could say.”


End file.
